<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Where, When, How Often and With Whom by SadArticle</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060449">Where, When, How Often and With Whom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadArticle/pseuds/SadArticle'>SadArticle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nero Wolfe - Rex Stout</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:20:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadArticle/pseuds/SadArticle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Never challenge a woman to beat you at your own game.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Archie Goodwin/Lily Rowan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where, When, How Often and With Whom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              Never challenge a woman to beat you at your own game. At the time, I wasn’t even aware that’s what I was doing, but apparently the battle lines were drawn when I uttered the reckless words, ‘I’d like to see you try’. The result? Lily Rowan perched on the edge of my bed at 2:32 am. Given my personal entanglement with the delectable socialite, you would be forgiven for misunderstanding the situation, so let me clarify – Lily Rowan, the very epitome of the female of the species, in Nero Wolfe’s brownstone on West 35<sup>th</sup> Street, uninvited, and me with nothing – and I emphasise, not one thing – to defend myself.</p>
<p>              I guess you had to be there.</p>
<p>             </p>
<p>              ‘Escamillo.’</p>
<p>              I thought I was dreaming, and I have to say, was enjoying every second. I could feel the tickle of her breath in my ear, smell her perfume – hell, even the mattress seemed to dip in response to her body sliding in next to mine. When she lightly raked her fingers through my hair, I started to come round, but once out for the night, a good deal of external stimulus is required to rouse me.</p>
<p>              As Lily well knows. ‘Hey, my big, brave bullfighter, wake up.’</p>
<p>              The line between subconscious fantasy and the intrusion of reality is undefined at best for the average deep dozer, and practically non-existent in men. My brain was active enough to register the touch of her lips on my shoulder and her fingertips tracing a path down my back, but these signals were then filed under ‘interactive imagination’ and dismissed.</p>
<p>              Until her hand slipped underneath the thin cotton sheet which, on a summer’s night in New York City, is all I can stand to wear to bed. Suddenly I was awake, alert and on the move.</p>
<p>              ‘What the hell –!’</p>
<p>              ‘Keep your voice down, Escamillo,’ she hissed. ‘You might be glad to see me, but I doubt your boss would share in your enthusiasm.’</p>
<p>              Like a prim maiden, I wrapped myself in the sheet. ‘How did you get in here?’</p>
<p>              ‘Do you want to compare methods?’</p>
<p>              My face expressed more eloquently the obvious question, but since the room was dark, I settled for one word: ‘What?’</p>
<p>              ‘You said, while regaling me with another adventurous tale of breaking and entering, “I’d like to see you try”, so I thought, why not?’ She laughed. ‘Although, I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.’</p>
<p>              I flopped back down onto the bed. ‘What time is it?’</p>
<p>              ‘Oh, about half past two,’ she replied brightly, snuggling down beside me to rest her head on my chest. ‘I was giving you a couple of hours to fall asleep but didn’t want to wait too long because I know Fritz is an early riser.’</p>
<p>              ‘Wait, you planned this – invasion?’</p>
<p>              ‘Oh, my pet, are you feeling violated?’ Her hand started to wander again, until I caught hold of her wrist. ‘Good job we’re on such intimate terms, then. I don’t like to wear anything to bed either.’</p>
<p>              I didn’t need to think about Lily Rowan not wearing anything to bed at that moment, so I shrugged her off and sat up. ‘Whichever means you employed to sneak in here, you’re going to have to reverse course and get out before Fritz is up and about. How did you know he’s an early riser?’</p>
<p>              ‘He’s a chef,’ she said with a shrug in her tone. ‘You’re kicking me out? Where’s my reward for such a display of ingenuity?’</p>
<p>              ‘I think you mean ‘insanity’, and your reward is me getting dressed and escorting you home, leaving by the front door like civilised people,’ I chided. ‘Come on.’</p>
<p>              ‘Do you want me to avert my eyes?’ she teased. ‘Escamillo, you’re the only man I know who’s first reaction to finding me in bed with them is to put clothes on and tell me to go home.’</p>
<p>              ‘Meet the original man of honour,’ I said, swinging my legs out of bed so I could stand with my back to her. I walked bare-assed to the chair where I’d thrown my clothes, aware that the window was casting a very unfortunate silhouette for her entertainment.</p>
<p>              ‘Are you sure you don’t want to know how I got past your famous security system?’</p>
<p>              Suitably attired, or wearing pants at least, I shed some lamp light on the subject and turned back to face my fair-haired invading force. Dressed from head to toe in black, her smiling face propped on one elbow and her ankles daintily crossed, I had to admit that Lily was the classiest amateur criminal in town. But I wasn’t in the mood for games.</p>
<p>              ‘Right now, I’m more interested in getting you <em>out</em> of the house,’ I lied.</p>
<p>              ‘Come back to bed,’ she pouted, patting my pillow.</p>
<p>              ‘The only reason I’m not in bed is because you broke in here – I don’t care how! – and startled me out of a good night’s sleep and about five years of my life,’ I protested. My voice was getting progressively louder, and I just hoped the house was large enough to insulate Nero Wolfe from the disturbance. ‘You’re lucky I don’t sleep with a gun to hand.’</p>
<p>              ‘Don’t be so modest,’ she cooed.</p>
<p>              Throwing on a shirt to hide the warm shade of pink my whole body was turning, I decided to display the courage of my convictions by physically removing her, which was an obvious tactical error. Other less confrontational bedroom assignations have taught me just how acrobatic my sparring partner can be, so I was only slightly surprised to find myself pinned to the mattress a second later.</p>
<p>              A few minutes after that, she let me up for air. ‘If you still want me to go,’ she panted lightly, ‘all you have to do is ask me how.’</p>
<p>              ‘OK,’ I panted back. ‘How did you get in here, with nary a key or an invitation?’</p>
<p>              Lily pulled herself up, sitting astride me. ‘Two words, Archie Goodwin – with you.’</p>
<p>              My brain was still trying to catch up with the situation. ‘With me?’ I repeated vaguely. ‘I think I might have noticed, precious. I left you, safe and sound or so I thought, back in your own ivory tower, and you were not dressed in black. Or at all, now I think back.’</p>
<p>              ‘This old thing?’ she teased, plucking at the neck of her pullover. ‘This is just something I threw on – about two seconds after you left my apartment. And then, you being you, I knew I’d have enough time to drive over here and wait for you to amble back across town.’</p>
<p>              ‘Where were you waiting?’ I asked, my attention well and truly caught. I tried to sit up, but Lily had positioned herself at an unfortunate point on my midsection.</p>
<p>              She pushed me back down, her hands lingering on my chest. ‘Do you really want to know?’ she asked. ‘It’s embarrassing.’</p>
<p>              ‘For you or for me?’ My reply was one raised eyebrow and a lopsided smile, which didn’t bode well. ‘Well, I don’t have any blushes left to spare, so please continue.’</p>
<p>              ‘I mean professionally embarrassing, for a man who associates with Nero Wolfe on a daily basis,’ she explained. ‘You see, I was right by the stairs and you just bounced right on up, straight past me.’</p>
<p>              ‘I do not bounce,’ I offered while my higher processes maintained a holding pattern. ‘Wait – the car horn. Some idiot started tooting a tune down the street, and I –’</p>
<p>              ‘Went to investigate, like a good little detective –‘</p>
<p>              ‘And you –?’</p>
<p>              Folding her arms, Lily settled back with a smug grin, allowing me enough movement to throw her over onto the bed. She seemed to enjoy herself, only squirming a little and in all the right places.</p>
<p>              ‘That was my driver,’ she added unnecessarily, my mental capacity by now fully restored. ‘He waited until you started in his direction, then took off. By which time, I was downstairs in the parlour because I thought you might go to the office or the kitchen before going to bed.’</p>
<p>              ‘How did you know which room is mine?’</p>
<p>              Lily patted my cheek. ‘I read your books.’</p>
<p>              ‘Right answer.’</p>
<p>              ‘Do I win a prize?’</p>
<p>              I laid one on her, for what I thought was a reasonable amount of time and interest given the late hour, then set about trying to extricate myself from the tangle of arms and legs we had formed.</p>
<p>              ‘That’s barely an honourable mention,’ she sighed, catching hold of my open shirt and pulling me back down. If you’re thinking my fortifications are rather too easily scaled by a mere damsel, you may be right, but then Lily Rowan is no mere damsel.</p>
<p>              Being clad only as a token gesture, my own disrobing required only one button, a zipper and barely any time at all. The fun part was unmasking my intruder.</p>
<p>              ‘When is your getaway car due back?’ I asked, running my hands over the smooth curves beneath the tight fit of her knitted sweater.</p>
<p>              ‘After breakfast,’ she smiled, lifting her arms from my shoulders so that I could strip the cashmere over her head. With her unpinned cloud of blonde hair came a rush of perfume that I can only assume I missed earlier because I was already marked with her scent from dancing.</p>
<p>Underneath the night-time camouflage, she was wearing her usual Parisian lingerie, a two-piece that covered the bare minimum while no doubt costing the maximum. Her chest, contained by two triangles of some slippery fabric, rose and fell with maddening rhythm beneath the palm of my hand.</p>
<p>              ‘I’ll buy you a coffee on the way home,’ I bartered, meeting that teasing quirk of her lips with my own.</p>
<p>              ‘I was thinking more of Fritz’s <em>oeufs au beurre noir</em>,’ she countered with a pretty convincing French accent, all while arching her back so that I could deal with the first of her fastenings.</p>
<p>              ‘That’s only for good girls,’ I said, doing away with the French frippery.</p>
<p>              ‘Oh, I’m very good,’ she promised, a statement I could vouch for but which would hardly endear her to Wolfe under the circumstances.</p>
<p>              ‘Yeah, I’ll add subterfuge to your extensive list of talents,’ I promised.</p>
<p>              ‘My, that’s a big word!’ she sighed, taking me in hand. ‘Do I get bragging rights?’</p>
<p>              ‘For one night only, angel.’</p>
<p>              Well, that’s the where, when and how for you – what happened next and how often stays off the record. Moral of the story: never challenge a blonde and always check your blind spot.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>